


Honeymooners

by jaeren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Eren Yeager Is a Tease, Eren Yeager is a Little Shit, Eren Yeager is in Denial, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon, I'm Going to Hell, Jealousy, M/M, Modern Era, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Older Eren Yeager, One bed ;), Rich Eren Yeager, Singer Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, but also because i love erwin, for angst and jealousy, long hair eren, pinning, really just an excuse to pretend Eren is real, sooooo much pinning and denial ahaha, strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to ??, the other relationships are secondary, this is mainly eren x yn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaeren/pseuds/jaeren
Summary: You’re running away from your wedding, and so is Eren Jaeger. Get ready to spend your honeymoon(s) together.(“Going somewhere?” asked a stranger. Handsome, too, tall with long dark hair and glowing — fuck, they were nearly glowing — green eyes. He was dressed to the nines, clad in a dark suit, though his tie was loosened. Was he a wedding guest? He was walking on the grass getting closer and closer to you. You made out just how handsome he was, like a sculpture shaped by the hands of the gods themselves.“Far away from here,” you responded as his eyes trailed down your wedding dress. You knew you looked good in it: it was a fitted cream dress that to your every curve with lace detailing. You still felt embarrassed as he looked at you, though.“Can I come with you?” You were shocked — he was a stranger to you and you to him.“)
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader, Erwin Smith & Reader, Erwin Smith/Reader, Erwin/Reader, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss & Ymir, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Willy Tybur/Reader
Comments: 118
Kudos: 375





	1. Runaway

  1. **Runaway**



You ran as fast as your legs would take you, hoping your wedding gown would get ruined as you sped through grass. Your heels sunk into dirt, your bun loosened, and your tears streamed down your cheeks. You stopped to take off your heels and wipe your tears.

“Going somewhere?” asked a stranger. Handsome, too, tall with long dark hair and glowing — _fuck, they were nearly glowing_ — green eyes. He was dressed to the nines, clad in a dark suit, though his tie was loosened. Was he a wedding guest? He was walking on the grass getting closer and closer to you. You made out just how handsome he was, like a sculpture shaped by the hands of the gods themselves.

“Far away from here,” you responded as his eyes trailed down your wedding dress. You knew you looked good in it: it was a fitted cream dress that to your every curve with lace detailing. You still felt embarrassed as he looked at you, though.

“Can I come with you?” You were shocked — he was a stranger to you and you to him.

“Why?” you asked simply, placing meaning onto the singular word, a sum of your desperation to get away quick and confusion as to why he wanted to come with.

“I gathered from your dress — you look stunning by the way — that you’re somewhat of, ah, a runaway bride,” he started. The compliment was sweet but it didn’t faze you; being a bride before you ran meant that people had been showering you with compliments all day. What fazed you was what he said next: “You could say that I’m a runaway groom.”

“I didn’t realize this venue had space for two weddings simultaneously,” you said, though it was more of a question. The man you were about to marry — his family would never allow for their oldest son’s wedding to happen at a cheap and lackluster venue, which included the concept of it hosting multiple events at once.

“No, it doesn’t. I just — needed an escape from my wedding, and my brother Zeke gave me an invite to a wedding happening so I could envision myself walking down the aisle. Maybe strengthen myself. But then I watched you run out of there, and it felt like a sign.”

You laughed humorlessly. He sounded exactly like the man you were escaping, someone unsure and not in love. “So this was supposed to give you a _sign_ to get _married?_ I’m sorry to say you shouldn’t marry at all if you felt that way from the beginning. Me running away when you were thinking of doing so — that was just a coincidence. You should cancel the wedding and give the poor girl a break.”

Eren frowned. “You’re right. And I knew that. I already cancelled the wedding; I did it before I came here. I’m even wearing my wedding tux. I meant it was a sign that I’d done the right thing.”

You hummed, and saw that your groom’s parents were rushing towards you. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

“My offer still stands. I take it you don’t know your way around this neighborhood, and I know a bar they’d never check.”

You watched as they got closer, an angry mood painting their faces into masks that looked appropriate for horror movies. You weren’t sure what you’d do alone. 

You slipped back into your heels and picked up the bottom of your dress, since now you’d be running on solid ground. “Alright, stranger. Take me away.” 

His green eyes twinkled as he grabbed your hand tightly, and the two of you ran off and away from the venue. Your heart hammered in your chest and you were sure your hands were clammy, but he held onto your hands tight the entire run through. You noticed he even slowed down for you when your breath was becoming excessively harder to catch.

You’d never been gladder to live in the city, until you lost your assailants amongst your zigzagging through the city blocks. Another function of living in the city — some people might have given you looks, but no one stopped to enquire about your wedding, or your running, or your now dirtied dress. 

“Alright,” he said, coming to a stop in front of a rundown looking bar, with a neon sign called _The Corps_ hanging over the door. “Here we are.”

You wrinkled your nose. “You don’t seem like the type to frequent these kinds of bars.”

He laughed, and the deep sound rolled over you pleasantly. You were liking his company. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, princess. I’m sure you’ve seen more luxe places in your life.” You didn’t say if it was true or not, and just followed him inside.

The two of you sat a booth in the back, where he ordered two vodka sodas, on the rocks. 

“Anything else?” he asked, looking over at you. The waiter turned to you as well, examining your expensive jewelry, wild hair, and roughened wedding dress. She definitely had questions, but was polite not to ask.

“Um, nothing else.” You didn’t want to be beholden to him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Can we get some fries? Maybe a chicken sandwich, too.” The waiter took the order down, and left. 

You flushed, embarrassed. “Um, I don’t have any money on me. We can stop by an ATM and I can take some out — and I know my hotel address, so we can go there, too. I’ll pay you back.”

He laughed heartily again, which only embarrassed you further, though again you took time to appreciate his laugh. “I know you’re assuming I’m some poor guy down on his luck, but have you thought there might’ve been a reason why my family is friends with your almost-in-laws? You’re not the only one with a trust fund.”

“I don’t have a trust fund!” you bit back. You might’ve had a prim and proper attitude, but the reason for that was not that you’d grown up uber wealthy like your ex-fiance or this stranger apparently had.

“Right — I’m sorry to assume. I’m just trying to say you don’t have to pay me back,” he said gently. “Enjoy the drinks, enjoy the food. You deserve it, love.” You flushed at his choice of words.

The fries and the burger came by at that moment. You cut the burger in half and passed the other to him, though he only looked at it. He grabbed a fry instead.

“I’m not hungry, but I know you are. Your stomach’s rumbling.”

You squeezed your eyes shut instinctively, embarrassed yet again.

As if he read your mind, he said: “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Just eat, I swear it’s delicious here.”

You took a bite and nearly fainted. It _was_ delicious: moist yet crispy chicken on a soft brioche bun with a creamy spicy mayonnaise sauce. You could’ve cried. Preparing for your wedding and for this stupid dress had been grueling, especially with a controlling mother _and_ mother-in-law.

Once you finished up the burger, you looked at him. He was watching you intensely. He slid back the half to you, and you smiled at him. At least he wasn’t like — you held back your ex-fiance’s name from your head.

Before you began eating again, you realized you still didn’t know his name, or he yours. Though he’d probably read the invitation and knew.

“Well, you’ve helped me escape my wedding. And I don’t even know your name.”

“Eren Jaeger,” he said. Ah, that made sense. It had been one of the wealthy families your mother-in-law — not that she could be that anymore — had drilled into your head to be aware of.

“Oh, I see. Your father’s a doctor, right, with a bunch of patents?”

Eren smirked. “Mrs. Tybur’s told you everything about everyone then, hasn’t she?”

“You could say that. Weren’t you going to marry Historia Reiss?” 

His smirk dropped into a frown. “Yes. Forcibly, on the both of us. She loved someone else, and it was as clear as the light of day. But her father was a nasty old fucker who didn’t give a damn. I’m glad to have been the one to free her, because I know she was miserable. I hope she and Ymir will get the chance to be together now.”

You couldn’t believe it. Eren’s story was so much more respectable than yours. He’d done it out of consideration for the girl, not out of some stupid inferiority complex. Sympathizing with the girl, you, too, hoped that Historia would find happiness with Ymir.

“Well, now I believe it’s your turn.”

“Hmm?”

“To give me your name, and your story. It’s only fair, you know.” He winked at you, as if to comfort you. Instead your stomach sank and you lost all appetite you had before. You had spent this entire day trying to ignore your emotions. But you supposed it would be better to vent to a near-stranger that would almost get your situation, than to hold it all in till you burst.

“I’m Y/N L/N, though I doubt you would recognize my last name. I grew up in a small town, then got a scholarship to Yale, where I met Willy. It was, in short, a whirlwind romance. He made me feel like a princess: roses, diamonds, vacations, everything. My parents loved him, too, but it was more because he was rich, not because of me. And so saying yes to his proposal was easy, all things considered. But everything that followed wasn’t.” You stopped speaking and took a deep breath. You needed to steel yourself to continue. Eren was listening with kind eyes locked on you, completely engaged to your story. It had been a long time since someone had listened to you.

“I figured out sometime later that Willy was with me more to spite his parents than anything else. And his parents absolutely hate me. I’m not some perfect little rich girl, you know? Not a debutante, not descended from royalty, nothing what they envisioned at all. Worse off, I think Willy’s more in love with Pieck than anyone else. Which was like putting salt on the wound, because Pieck is everything his parents wanted in the ideal woman. Hell, I can’t even hate her because of how amazing she is. And then … I decided that I couldn’t do it. I walked down the aisle and looked into Willy’s eyes, saw nothing but a veiled disinterest — like it wasn’t his fucking wedding day — and I couldn’t do it. It was like in that moment all the love I had for Willy was gone. Instantly. And so I ran. And then you found me.” Letting all the words out felt cathartic. You were free, in a way, by speaking. It was the shortened version of the story, but you didn’t want to linger on any details.

You looked to Eren and saw that he was scowling. His eyes held a fire that made his green eyes more intense. You realized just how long his eyelashes were, their dark thickness a perfect contrasting frame to the beautiful turquoise waves within. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“It isn’t to say that he didn’t treat me well. Well, okay, that’s debatable,” you said, trying to defend him but then thinking of all the passive aggressive gaslighting you’d had to experience. But that was more an effect of his parents bearing down on him as the wedding drew closer. You shook your head to clear your thoughts; your brain couldn’t focus on what light to see Willy in. The version you had first fell in love with, you wanted to defend. But the version you had come to know, the one that had hurt you — you couldn’t stand him.

“Still, that’s not right. Just to spite his parents? And I get the feeling he did more, too. Fuck. Tell me you’re still going on your honeymoon, at the very least. You deserve it.”

A lightbulb went on in your head. It was true — the honeymoon was all paid for, and paid for by him. It was even under your name, as you had been the one to plan everything. But what would you do with a honeymoon all by yourself? Impulsively, you made a decision.

“Eren. Would you—”

“Hell yes. I already know what you’re going to ask. Count me in. And we’ve got my honeymoon, too. Everything was booked and ready. We could both use a break from this world.” Eren looked excited: there was a newfound energy in his posture and his grin was stretched wide across his face. 

“Well. The flight is tonight. Though we don’t have plane tickets, because we were going to use his family’s jet.”

Eren waved his hand, signaling that it wasn’t a problem and you got the gist of it what it meant. _Does everyone have a jet? Damn._ “Where to first, milady?” 

You grinned, finally feeling like this was all going to truly be put behind you. You were moving forward, to new beginnings with a new ... a new friend. “Paris.”

Eren smirked devilishly, eyes locked onto yours. “The city of love.”

_(And so began, the story of how a runaway bride and groom — each from different weddings — spent their honeymoons, together.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, another fic! The plot ideas never stop. I was thinking of writing a modern AU for my other fic (To Love and To Hate, an enemies to lovers AU with Eren & Reiner, which I totally recommend you to check out) as a gift to my readers, and the ideas I had for that spiraled into this instead. I have so many ideas on where to take this, as well as how our beloved characters are going to fit into the storyline, so here goes. It'll be slightly slow burn, though not quite ;) 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Of potential destinations, Eren's character, Y/N's character, whether you want to see flashbacks, anything! Your wish is my command. I literally live off of comments and support. Originally, I was going to have the MC be a descendent of royalty as the reason for pressure on her wedding, which you can kind of tell I had written and adjusted, but I liked the idea of this character better, especially because I wanted to tackle the concept of imposter syndrome. And also rich hot sweet Eren coming to sweep you off your feet is straight out of a romcom LOL my fics are just straight up wish fulfillment. On that note, please check out my other AOT fics, which you can access by clicking on my profile. Till next time! <3


	2. Closure in the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h/l = hair length, h/c = hair color, see more notes at end

  1. **Closure In The City**



Eren hailed a cab to your hotel. He didn’t come with you, saying something about business he had to attend to. You figured his schedule had been busy to accommodate for this wedding and honeymoon, and that he’d need to do some more cancelling now that he would be joining you. You felt giddy — this was like the beginning of a movie. A coming of age, though you were already twenty-three. 

As you walked through the lobby — of course, eyes were on you, dressed in your luxurious gown fit only for a bride — you thought of how strange it would’ve been to have married almost straight out of college. Thank god for you having had enough courage to take off your rose-tinted glasses and having seen your situation for what it really was. 

You pushed the button for the elevator. It came a few seconds later, and a large group of people exited, eyes lingering on you. You kept your composure, and acted as if all you had on was a t-shirt and jeans, not an ensemble that could probably pay for a semester, maybe even a year, at Yale. 

You stepped into the elevator, glad to be the only one going up at this moment. You thought back to your days at Yale with Willy. They’d been great, and you were glad to have the memories. But you were more happy that you’d freed yourself from what would have been a toxic marriage. 

Your hotel suite was on one of the highest floors of the esteemed Paradis hotel. Now that you thought of it, you remembered what Mrs. Tybur had said about Historia: sole heiress to the Paradis resort and hotel enterprise after a tragic accident that had killed her entire step-family. You shuddered, feeling even sadder for the poor girl. You wondered if you’d ever meet her and get the chance to tell her how proud you were of her. 

You walked up to the mirror, assessing the damage done to your previously flawless appearance. You found yourself loving how wild you looked: your h/l hair was loosely framing your face, h/c tressees ruffled by the wind during your run away. There was a newfound spark in your eyes, brightening your overall expression. You missed this bright-eyed girl you had been. Thank god you were finding her again. 

You slipped out of the wedding dress, and took a hot shower, clearing the sweat and memories away. It was therapeutic. What you had thought would be the worst day of your life had now turned into the most freeing day of your life. Freedom. And Eren had given it to you. You realized you would’ve been crying somewhere at the venue if it hadn’t been for him. And, most likely, Mrs. Tybur would’ve pressured you into going through with it after all. Your own parents, too, probably would’ve joined the pressuring. 

You changed into a navy blue crew neck and your softest leggings. You eyed your engagement ring, trying to figure out what to do with it. You settled on taking it off and looping it into the gold chain you always wore. It had been the first purchase you made after you had received your first paycheck, working for the management team of a nonprofit your sophomore summer. And now, the memories of your first love would hang off it. You couldn’t bear parting with the ring, at least not until you were ready.

You began packing, setting the suitcase at the drawer that sat at the bottom edge of the bed, humming quietly to yourself. You did your best to clear your thoughts — you didn’t want to spiral into thinking while you were alone. This was a precarious balance you were in, deciding whether to be fine with everything or freaking out. 

In the midst of packing, the door clicked open. _Fuck._ You had momentarily forgotten the suite was for two. You and Willy.

“Y/N.” You held your breath, not willing to turn around. You knew this voice, you’d known it for four years. But finally, unable to bear the thick silence, you turned.

“Willy.” Your throat closed, and you were unable to say much more. Willy’s blue grey eyes flicked to your now empty ring finger. Your mouth was dry, and you struggled to recalibrate to the situation before you.

“I see,” Willy finally said. He walked up to you and sat down on the bed. The sound of fabric rustling to adjust to his weight was all you could hear besides the beat of your heart thrumming in your ears, a soundtrack to the multitude of emotions swirling through you. 

“So it’s over?”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say.

Willy frowned. He laid his head on his right palm, balancing it on his thigh. His long blonde hair, much much longer than Eren’s, swished over his blazer. You realized he was still in his wedding tux. And you weren’t in your wedding dress. What a contrast. 

“I think … I should be sorry, more. I should’ve realized how much you didn’t want the wedding.”

Now you frowned. “Was it not clear by how I’d not been eating?”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” 

“Shit, Willy, no! That’s never good!” Now your guilt and embarrassment switched over to anger. “Don’t you know how your mom pressured me to lose weight? And that morning you told me to lay off the bagels? And so many other occasions?” You had tried, then, to not get worked up over it, but little comments like that always built up, and the closer the wedding got, the less your appetite existed. Thank goodness that was doen with.

“I — I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.” This applied to so much more than these isolated incidents, and you knew it carried over to Willy’s understanding by the way his eyes darkened to the color of the sky before a storm.

“Well. I came here to tell you that you can still have the honeymoon,” he began. You almost snorted, because you were going to take it anyway. “And, I know that the wedding happening so soon forced you to quit your job. So I created a bank account in your name.”

You were floored by the sudden rush of fury. You didn’t want his pity handouts, even if he had been the reason for your quitting.

He noticed the way your cheeks had flushed in your madness, and spoke quickly to defend himself: “Think of it as our five year anniversary gift. I’d have bought you something worth as much anyway.”

You laughed sardonically. “Willy, not everything can be fixed by money.” You’d ignored this quality of is, attributing it to his upbringing, but you needed him to know. Maybe he’d be better for the next girl. 

“I know, but I want to help you somehow. I feel terrible,” he said, hiding his face in his hands suddenly. You were shocked by his change in composure. Willy never got like this. “When you ran — I was so angry. And you ran off with Jaeger, too, a man you barely knew. It was like you chose him over me.”

Now you let yourself snort. He didn’t know half of it. You wondered how he’d feel if you revealed who exactly you were honeymooning with, even if it wasn’t in the traditional honeymoon manner.

“I know, I know — but then Pieck spoke with me.” _Of course she did._ You’d have to thank the girl one day, after you got over envying her. “She made me realize how shit I’ve been to you. And how shit my parents, your parents, everyone had been — you were miserable. I was originally coming over to convince you to take me back. I … thought I loved you. And I do. Just now, I know the love I have for you is different. And I want you to find the kind of love you couldn’t have with me.”

You raised an eyebrow. Did he get this out of a rom-com? But then again, Willy had always been good with his words.

“I mean this with every ounce of me. I want you to know, I’ll always be here for you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me. My parents might hate you, but I never will.”

“Lovely of you to realize that now,” you said, lacing your words with every bit of pain you’d felt through this entire time.

Willy winced. “Yeah. I know. Here, by the way. You left all your stuff. And I figure you’ll be needing your phone.” He handed you your purse and your phone. “I took the liberty of putting your new card and bank information in your wallet. Ah. I also hope you don’t mind, but Father has released a wine named after you. It was supposed to be a late engagement gift. It’s too late to rename it, and critics have already enjoyed it very much, and I even convinced Father to send you royalty checks.” 

You waved at him. Would you ever need to get a job at this rate? _I guess he’s at maximum levels of guilt, with the amount of money he’s throwing at me._

“Alright, Willy. Anything else to say?”

“Can I try something before I go?” Suspicious, but still curious, you nodded.

Suddenly, Willy kissed you. His mouth slammed into yours, and he clung to you desperately. You pushed him away immediately, and wiped at your mouth. 

“What the hell?!” 

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.” There he goes again, with his stupid apologies. “I just wanted to see — if I could change anything.”

You were seething. He had to ruin what was going to be a peaceful enough goodbye. “Goodbye, Willy,” you said with a finality you were more sure of than your own name. 

“Goodbye. The royalty checks will be sent to our apartment. The deed’s in both our names, but I’ll have it changed to yours immediately.”

Willy went to walk away, but you grabbed the back of his shirt. You had to get some words out.

“What’s with you? Stop _pitying_ me. I’m not rich, I get it. But I don’t need you to think I’m this useless braindead bitch. You know what you never apologized for? All the times you told your friends _sorry_ when I picked the wrong spoon for soup. All the times you let your mother walk over me and shame me for existing. All the times you looked at other girls, not even caring to hide your attraction. Willy, have you ever loved me? I thought you did, but I’m beginning to doubt it.”

“I — I —”

“Fucking say something!” You meant for it to sound like a yell, like you were fierce and courageous. But you were devastated and it came out as a whispered sob — all the memories you had cherished were now mutating before your eyes as you saw Willy for what he’d been your entire relationship. You’d let his gifts and words cloud your vision. And now you felt like there was a hole in your heart. With the way your stomach felt, maybe one in your gut, too, and with the way the tears leaked out of you, maybe one in your eyes, too. 

You sobbed, tears falling and mascara smudging onto Willy’s expensive tux. So much for waterproof mascara. 

“I’m going to admit it. I do love you. But this relationship was initially a show, to piss off my parents.” Just like you’d suspected. “And then I liked you. And thought, if I married you, I’d get the best of both worlds. Love and hurting my parents.” You continued to cry. This was closure, but _f u c k_ did it hurt like hell. 

“And you know my tendency to guilt buy. It’s been eating at me. And I feel like the only way to pay you back is to literally pay you back. I’d say I’m sorry but I know that would make you angrier. Sadder. So just take what I’m giving you. Pretend it’s from a long lost rich cousin or something.”

“That’s gross,” you mumbled. “I almost married my cousin.” Willy laughed, and you were reminded of the good moments, in which you’d been a functional, happy, couple. Your tears subsided as you realized that you’d still have those moments. For better or for worse.

“Alright, Willy. I’m good now.” Half true. You’d need a gallon of gin and vats of vodka, too. 

“Hope you enjoy your honeymoon,” he said. He helped you stand up. 

“I will,” you said. You were determined to.

{~}

“Nice ride,” Eren wolf-whistled as he helped load your suitcases into the trunk of what had been Willy’s twenty-third birthday gift. A sleek, shiny, steeply priced car. Yet another pity pass. You found the keys in your purse, and thought, _fuck it._

“Willy Tybur’s _the_ man to go to if you want to be showered with shit. Uh, not literal shit.”

Eren laughed. You loved his laugh; it reminded you of happy sunny days, and you needed that feeling right now, just as much as you needed a cold drink. He was quickly worming his way into your favorite people list. You wished you’d met him long ago — you needed someone like him, a friend like him, in your life. You ignored the intrusive thought that you could be more than friends, and turned to Eren as he began speaking, recovered from his bout of laughter. 

“Don’t I know it. When we were kids, Tybur shattered a glass vase onto my toes — that’s too embarrassing a story to retell though — and he bought me signed first edition comics. I’ve still got them in my childhood bedroom. And I guess the guilt buying runs in the family, because his mother bought mine a porcelain vase from the fuckin’ Regency era.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. It was nice to laugh at something you’d been crying about just moments before.

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime,” you said, slipping into the driver’s seat. 

Eren sat in the chair next to you. “Maybe when I’m drunk out of my mind, because it’s embarrassing as hell.”

You tapped the steering wheel as the car revved up. You turned to look at him. “If I tell you an embarrassing story, will you pay back in equal measure?”

He smirked. “Depends on how embarrassing.”

“God-tier levels of embarrassment. Okay, so — you know, those dreams about being naked in class, like in your lecture hall?”

“Can’t relate, but continue.” You rolled your eyes; Eren was a sarcastic bastard. But you liked his quips.

“Well. I was giving this presentation, for my cinema throughout the years elective, on the effect of class on gender relations in film—”

“Wow, did you go to Yale or something?”

“Haha, very funny. Anyway, I’ve got this one shirt, it’s got just one button right at the bust. You can tell where it’s going, probably. But it’s never disappointed me before. And that day was hot as hell so I didn’t feel like wearing a bra. I turn to the audience and fling my arms open at the end, you know, for significance — long story shirt, my shirt flies open. In front of my entire lecture section. With no bra.”

Eren’s face was flushed red, but you weren’t sure if it was from his imagination of the event or from his soundless laughter. There was so much amusement in his eyes, he could be the dictionary definition of it.

“Damn, how will I ever top that?” 

“You can start by telling me _your_ story.” 

“I will, but if you let me drive. I want us to stop by somewhere before we head to the plane hangar. Also, I know the story might have you drive unstably.” 

You switched positions. “Alright, go. I’ve got high hopes,” you said as you clicked in the seatbelt. 

He began driving, one hand on the steering wheel. He opened up the windows, and sweet night air filtered in as you sped down the street, entering the highway. You gulped as you watched his chocolate brown strands fly everywhere wildly, the moonlight slanting over his cheekbones in _just_ the right way. 

“Okay. So. I used to want to be a writer. Maybe not truly, but I thought I did.” His words jarred you out of your thoughts.

“Didn’t we all? Harry Potter does that to everyone.”

“Fuck off,” he said, smiling as he drove smoothly. “Right, well I had this idea. And if you must know, it was inspired by _mythology_ , not Harry Potter.”

“So Percy Jackson?” You said playfully, waiting for his reaction, eyes locked onto him. Well, you’d been looking at him and would continue to regardless.

“No, just a regular mythology book I found in my dad’s office. And I had this idea about gods giving mortals this power, that was only activated by injury. In the case of emergencies, you know, and also because all powers should have caps on them.” You hummed to show your engagement to his story.

“Before long, I had myself believing that I was one of them. One of the mortals given the power. I don’t even know why. And I kept bragging about it, to talk about all the grand things I’d do with that power. No one believed me, of course, but Tybur got really fucking annoyed. He declared “war” on me,” Eren said, using his free hand to make air quotes. 

“Then he dropped a vase on my toes.”

“That’s a huge jump, Eren.”

“Not really. He wanted me to realize that I wouldn’t transform, even with the injury.” 

“Okay, that’s embarrassing, but more sad. He shattered your childhood dream. Literally. My story was actually embarrassing.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he said childishly. “Mine is!” 

“You’re a grown man saying “nuh-uh.” I hope you realize that _that_ is more embarrassing.” You smiled, shaking your head. You enjoyed your banter more than you could ever tell Eren.

“Alright, alright, I concede.” There were a few moments of peaceful silence as you drove. Your own hair, too, was being moved by the wind, swaying gently and tickling your cheeks.

“So,” Eren said, breaking the silence. “Are you going to tell me why you were crying?”

You jolted. How had he noticed? Willy would have never noticed, unless you cried right in front of him.

“How’d you know?”

“Tear streaks still on your face. Puffier eyes. And, uh, your voice sounded different.”

“Know me so well already?” you asked, inciting an edge to your voice. Again, you couldn't believe he'd noticed, especially to this degree of detail.

“To be going on _two_ honeymoons with you? I should.”

“I — closure. An end of an era, if you will. Willy’s an ass, and I finally realized just how big of one he was. And it was too much for me, at the time.” 

You watched Eren nod solemnly. “How are you feeling now, love?” There it was again. The love. You swallowed, and responded.

“Ah. Well, I’d love to get shit faced drunk and forget about it all. Maybe find a hot stranger to fuck. Afterall, to get over someone you need to get under someone else.”

“Hey! You’ve got yourself a hot stranger right here,” he said, lips curving upward. You flushed, and your pulse quickened. “Jokes aside, that was the plan all along. I mean, uh, not the fucking part. But to get drunk as hell. Nothing like a little liquor to dull the senses, forget the trauma momentarily.”

“Sir, that is not a healthy mindset. But I agree for this moment,” you replied. You were sad for some reason, melancholy even. Well, you knew the reason, you just wouldn’t admit it. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m taking you to The Walls. Killer nightclub just on the edge of midtown. And they’ve got these specialty drinks — you’re gonna love the Sina drink.” 

You grinned. You’d heard of The Walls, but you’d never ventured out there before. And now you were. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence. You hummed to yourself again as you lost yourself in your thoughts. The stars twinkled above you. You felt at peace. How was it that whenever Eren was around, you were so tranquil? You were glad that in this new beginning to your life, the closing of the latest chapter, you had him around. Hopefully for much longer than your time as honeymooners. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Another chapter: some angst, some closure, some fluffy interaction, and some sexual tension! Hope you enjoyed it! In terms of update schedule, as you can see I kind of update whenever, but expect the bare minimum of every one to three weeks lol 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter: whether it's enough closure, if you felt the tension, anything, I love to hear from you. And feel free to check out my other works if you want more of my writing. Till next time, lovelies.


	3. Off The Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the two songs I listened to on repeat while writing this chapter, as well as the two songs that get quoted (in this order): "Make It Last" by DVBBS and NERVO, and "All Night" by Steve Aoki and Lauren Jauregui.

  1. **Off The Walls**



“Holy fuck,” you said. You were in awe as you stepped into The Walls. This was the most luxurious nightclub you’d ever been to, while still having the aspect of being a premier hotspot. It was like a medieval castle had fathered children with speakeasies: beyond the lit up dance floor changing vibrant colors every second, there were decadent booths with leather couches strewn about the entire club, miniature chandeliers hanging over each one. There was a tiered second floor more for mingling, and the bar spanned an entire wall, with bottles and bottles of various drinks. 

“I know, right?” Eren said, a hint of smugness coloring his words. “Let’s get you a drink now, love.”

You swallowed. You’d need that drink, stat. Eren led you over to the bar, and as you scanned the wall for something to drink, you suddenly noticed something. You doubled over laughing, quite literally bending over, unable to hold in your giggles.

Eren frowned curiously. “What’s wrong? Or right, I guess, since you’re laughing?”

You continued to laugh, unable to say anything in response, but managed to point at exactly what you’d been looking at. 

“Holy fuck,” Eren said, parroting your earlier words. “There’s a wine named after you?”

You relaxed yourself slowly, managing to compose yourself. “Yeah. Willy's told me so, but I didn’t truly realize … and I was _not_ expecting it here.”

“Well, now I’ve got to taste you,” he said excitedly. He motioned to the bartender. “Can I get some of the Y/N wine? Actually, give me two glasses, please.” 

The bartender quickly set to it, and soon enough, two glasses of a sparkling crimson liquid were set before the two of you. 

“Here’s to, ah,” Eren began, lifting his glass before yours, swirling the liquid inside gently. He thought for a bit, and settled on: “To unholy matrimony!”

You clinked your class against his. “To our honeymoons, Jaeger.” You downed the drink; it tasted of sour grapes with a bitter bite. 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” called out a voice. You recognized the owner immediately, for all the times you’d seen him in tabloids. Jean Kirschtein, the infamous son of culinary geniuses, was well known for his wild child exploits. Another one Mrs. Tybur had told you about. 

“Hell, Jean. How do you always find me?” Eren sounded annoyed, but there was an upside quirk to his lips, and you knew that Jean was a close friend of his just by that. 

“It’s not you I look for, it’s the beautiful women surrounding you,” Jean replied smoothly, taking you in. You knew you weren’t dressed for the club, having still been in the crewneck you’d worn to relax in your hotel room earlier, but you supposed you’d still look good. 

“Hiya, darling, I’m Jean,” he said with a wink directed at you. 

You laughed in spite of yourself. “Hiya, yourself. I do know you already though. Your reputation precedes you.” 

“So you’re well read,” Jean said. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the tabloids or your persona in general. “But there’s more to me than just my appearance, you kno— holy shit. You’re the runaway bride!”

You grimaced. You supposed that in the circles Willy, Eren, and Jean lived in, it was only a matter of time.

“That’s me,” you said shrugging. You waited to Jean’s judgement, for him to separate away from you and declare you worthless. You knew plenty of the Tybur’s friends who would.

“Anything you drink tonight’s on me. You deserve it, for having nearly married that fucker,” Jean said, flashing a credit card in between his fingers. He slid it across the bar and ordered some shots for you.

You instantly warmed up to Jean. You had never expected his reaction, having anticipated the worst. 

Just as he was going to pass the shots to you and Eren, he noticed your abandoned wine glasses: yours fully empty, Eren’s half empty. 

“Wait — were you guys drinking wine before? You know what they say, wine before liquor, never sicker.”

Eren snorted. “Sounds like maybe that was the point.”

Jean nodded and hummed. “Right, right. Well. What the hell are we waiting for?”

{~}

Wine before liquor, never sicker indeed. But you weren’t nauseous at all: you were on top of the world. You’d never been a heavy drinker in college, having a medium tolerance and thus being unsure of your limit, so this was a new sensation. You were somewhere in between tipsy and drunk, toeing the fine balance between having a burst of impulsivity and wildness versus being a vomiting mess as you usually were when unstably drunk.

“I believe it’s ‘off the rails,’ and not ‘off The Walls,’” you said, words slurring together slightly, catching Jean saying something about being off the walls.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you tell yourself,” Jean said, downing another shot. 

“Like, I get you’re trying to make it relevant in the situation—”

“Am not!”

“But it’s simply not correct.”

Eren sat at a barstool while he watched the two of you ‘argue,’ quietly sipping on some fruity drink. He seemed looser somehow, but otherwise definitely more composed than you.

“Actually, I think Jean is correct — off The Walls works, too,” Eren finally said. 

“Ugh,” you said, wrinkling your nose. You hated being wrong. 

“Hah! Take that!” 

“Take what?” You turned to meet the voice, and saw that it belonged to a tall freckled boy, who was bringing with him a small group of others. 

“Marco!” Jean exclaimed. You watched as Jean created the boy with a passionate kiss. You blushed; it felt like interrupting a private moment.

Eren stepped off the barstool and came to stand by your side. 

“Yo, Eren, who’s this?” asked a boy with close cropped hair. “I’m Connie, nice to meet ya!”

“Oh, are we doing introductions?” asked a gentle voice with wide blue eyes.

Eren laughed through his nose, and turned to you. He lowered himself to your height, and pointed at everyone, his breath brushing your ear like a caress. “I’ll give you a quick rundown of everyone: that’s Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, and now you know Connie and Marco, too.” He stepped back from you and you felt his sudden absence instantly, like losing a vital sense. 

“Um, hi. I’m—”

“We know!” Sasha said excitedly. “Jean texted us, and we came running.”

You held your breath, now waiting to see their reaction. Whatever tipsiness you’d been feeling left your system as if recognizing a precarious situation requiring all your attention. They could’ve come to remove Jean from your presence. They could take Eren, too. And then you’d truly be alone.

“We’re so sorry you had to deal with Tybur for so long. I’d leave him, too,” Sasha said, hazel brown eyes taking a sympathetic light.

You smiled. “I wish I’d left him earlier.”

“No fucking shit,” Jean said. “If we’d known you before the wedding, we’d have told you some things. All his past relationships before college ended in flames.”

Part of you wanted to know every sordid detail. But you held yourself back, thinking of your decision to move forward. 

Eren spoke for you, surprising you. “Let’s stop talking about Tybur. Let him rot.”

Armin nodded. “We came out here to let you know we support you. I, um, happened to be at one of the dinners when Mr. and Mrs. Tybur were introducing you. You didn’t deserve that treatment. No one would.” 

Eren clicked his tongue. “Again, no lingering on the past, Armin.”

Armin ruffled his blond hair sheepishly. You spoke up: “But thank you, Armin. That means a lot to me.”

“Agreed with Armin, we’re all here to support you. I’m curious, though,” said Mikasa, finally speaking up. “How did you meet Eren?”

“Oh,” you said, knowing your face was heating up. Thank goodness for nightclubs and their lighting. “I met him as I was, er, running away. He said he was a runaway groom, and needless to say, I was intrigued. And he helped me get out of there.”

Mikasa smiled, nodding, as if glad to clear up the question. 

“Okay, enough with the introductions! We can get to know each other later — for now, though, let’s dance!” Sasha said, immediately running off to dance, not looking back. You loved her impulsivity, and ran behind her, dragging Eren by his hand with you. 

You’d already drank your troubles away, and now you’d dance them away, too.

{~}

The music blared loudly in your ears, a soundtrack to your mindless movements. You weren’t paying attention to how you moved — you just followed your instincts. You let your body sway to whatever beat played, letting your body fluctuate fluidly. At some point, Sasha had convinced you to ditch your crewneck somewhere, and you were in a tight tank top that revealed the lacy yet comfortable bralette you wore underneath. 

_So love love love love me now, ‘cuz we can make the weekend last, we can make the weekend last forever_

The beat dropped as a sultry feminine voice echoed through the entire room. You did want this night to last, and you lip synced to the song as you grew familiar with the up beat yet repetitive lyrics.

_So tell me boy if you can feel it, c’mon and let it show, ‘cuz I don’t wanna waste another minute_

Someone tapped on your shoulder, and you turned to meet a tall well-built man with shaggy auburn hair draping over his eyebrows. He was pretty good-looking, with almond shaped hazel eyes and light brown skin. So could this be the hot stranger you’d use as a rebound? Your brain had wanted a certain someone in specific, but the human lust that came with a certain amount of drinking and general lack of thinking quickly honed in on your new target.

You looped your arms around his neck, more forward that you’d usually be. “Hi,” you breathed. 

He smiled at you slowly, drinking you in. “I’m Tomas. Lovely to meet you.” 

You didn’t say anything in reply. You just let a suggestive smile play over your features as the music continued. Surely he’d get the message… 

A voice cleared behind you. It was a tall, equally well built blond man. He had a serious look in his eyes, dark blue eyes shining in the dark. “Tomas, we were looking for you. We need to talk about the assignment abroad.”

You relaxed your arms, and gracefully saluted Tomas away, tipping two fingers at your head. “Seeya, handsome. You too, blondie.”

He smiled at you, also taking in your appearance. “Name’s Erwin. Have a good night, miss. You look beautiful.”

You smirked, lavishing in all the praise, as Erwin walked away. It had been so long since you felt good in your own skin, and you missed that feeling. Confidence was more heady than any drink would be.

_My heart beats a little faster when our eyes meet_

“So you’ve got a crowd of admirers.” Your pulse sped up as you registered the deep voice coming closer to you as a new song played. _Still sultry_ , you noted. _Maybe that was the mood for tonight, a message from the universe._

“Eren,” you said. “I guess I look good.” You weren’t at all like this usually, but letting yourself bask in the attention of eyes on you had your emotions in overdrive.

His green eyes trailed over you, and you felt their movements like sensual strokes on your skin. 

“I never said you didn’t, love.” 

You inhaled as he exhaled, your breathing mingling. You hadn’t realized how close Eren had come to you until now. You looked into his eyes and realized there were flecks of blue dotted in his green irises. The colors whorled together, like waves in the ocean. You were impressed by how you’d seen his eyes look so different, so often. 

“Why’s it that you call me love?”

Eren blinked. “I don’t really know. It felt natural,” he said. He licked his lips.

_Got me paralyzed, I don’t think I can fight this, Why’s it feel so right_

The words to the song felt more applicable than ever — you were drawn to his lips like magnets. You ached to slant your own over his and lose yourself in the feeling of it. 

He drew nearer to your face. A finger rested underneath the tip of your chin. You waited with baited breath as he tilted your face up. You felt as if your heartbeat aligned to the music’s pounding drumbeat. Your eyes fluttered closer as Eren’s cool breath skimmed over your lips.

“Not here,” he finally said. It was like being dumped with a bucket of cold water, and your eyes opened quickly. _Hmm_ He suddenly pulled and dragged you off the dance floor — not roughly, but not gently either. 

You followed him up the stairs to the lounge area, and then, even past that. He pushed through what looked like an emergency exit to the roof, and you shivered as the cold night air hit your skin. 

But that sensation was quickly forgotten as Eren pinned you to the other side of the emergency door, the metal a stable backing to the force Eren used to press his hard body against yours. His mouth pressed over yours immediately and you wrapped your fingers around his silken locks, tugging and pulling desperately.

He tasted like citrus and sugar, probably from all the fruity drinks he’d had, and you wondered how he perceived your taste. 

He spoke, as if telepathically hearing and answering your question. “Pure fuckin’ ambrosia.” He didn’t spend more time away from your lips, though, swooping down again and sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth. Pain pricked as he bit down, but washed over with pleasure as his tongue licked over the bite, and you parted your lips to let him in further.

Heat surged all over you, reaching most notably in your core. You breathed heavily in between his powerful kisses. He lifted you up higher, looping a leg around him with one of his hands supporting you up by your ass. His erection pressed into you deliciously, providing much needed friction in addition to the kisses. You could’ve died a happy woman right then and there. 

“I kept listing reasons I should stay away from you. I was doing so well, too, but you _had_ to look at me with those eyes of yours. Those big beautiful eyes,” he said, whispering against your jaw. His lips and teeth skimmed over your neck as his free hand pulled down the straps of your tank and bra, fingers smoothing over the tops of your breasts. His other hand squeezed your ass tightly. His soft lips passed your gold necklace, on its way to your breasts. 

And then he froze. You heard this whisper of “fuck,” as he quickly removed himself from you. You were confused as much as you were aroused. 

“Eren?” you said, posing the question you were thinking by the way you said his name. 

You traced his line of vision to your neck, and brought a hand up — only for it to land at your engagement ring. Fuck, indeed.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You wanted to disagree, wanted to vocalize how much you wanted it, how much you wanted and needed _him._ But you stayed quiet, letting him continue, as you watched the red flush on his face deepen, as you watched his long hair whip around his face. The moon shone on the two of you, the only witness to your prior passions.

“That was out of line. It’ll never happen again, Y/N. It _can’t_ happen again.”

You forced yourself to nod. “You’re right. We can’t make this messy.” Whatever warmth Eren had brought you had left, and now the cold bit at your skin instead of his teeth and his mouth.

“Exactly. We’ve got two honeymoons to complete — as friends. We can’t fuck it up so messily. And you’re clearly still not over Willy, and I will not be your rebound.” You cursed yourself for putting the ring onto your necklace. But as your pent up excitement disappeared slowly, you thought with a clearer head. No longer lust clouded, you realized it was true. You couldn’t mess up the bond you’d created with Eren for a quick and dirty hookup. That’s not what either of you deserved. And you couldn’t lose him, especially not now. He was a buoy holding you afloat in the wild storm your life had become. 

You licked away all traces of Eren before responding. “Alright. Pinky promise to forget this ever happened?” You smiled at him, trying to suggest a sense of normalcy, of nonchalance.

A small grin grew over Eren’s lips. “Pinky promise.” The two of you linked pinkies. You blinked in surprise as Eren brought the linkage up to his lips.

“It’s, uh, something I used to do with Mikasa and Armin when we were kids. Sealed the promise with a kiss. My parents, too.” He looked away, clearly embarrassed as another blush painted over his cheeks and nose.

You laughed — that was adorable. You lifted your pinkies up to your lips, too.

“There. Sealed with a kiss.”

You were the first to unlink your pinkies as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You wondered if it was more due to the cold, or more due to a sudden lonely need to be held, whether it was by another person or yourself. 

“Let’s go back in. You’re clearly cold. Let’s say goodbye to the others, and head off.” 

“Right! To Paris.” Thinking ahead helped root you to something that _wasn’t_ Eren. 

“To Paris," He repeated. "C’mon now, love.” He opened the door for you, and waved fancily to let you in first.

At least some things would stay the same. And there was no fucking way you’d be forgetting tonight anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another surprise chapter! Just wanted to lay out the beginning more so was excitedly and speedily writing. Plus, I have a feeling that I'll be busy soon as my advisor's started me on a new project. Please leave your comments and reactions, I adore every one of them, and please check out my other fics if you enjoyed this one. Since I've been updating this one in quick succession, especially with longer chapters, they'll be the ones I attend to more next lol. Lots of love! <3


	4. Green With Jealousy

  1. **Green With Jealousy**



As always, Eren’s eyes are on you. He’s known you for the sum total of four days, and yet you consumed his every thought. Even without realizing it, his eyes would trail up and down your body, imagine what it’d feel like to have your silky skin press against _his_ skin. Your soft hands wrapped around _his_ hands. Your dazzling eyes locked onto _his_ eyes. To listen to your every thought, and for you to listen to _his_ every response. You and him, Y/N and Eren. That’s what he wanted, even if he didn’t want to. He didn’t _want_ to want you. He buried it as deep as he could, and it was costing him.

“So, have you decided? On a place to eat?” Eren asked you. People bounded by the two of you, but looking at you, it felt as if it were just the two of you. Even if you wouldn’t look him in the eyes. He wished he could take a peek into your thoughts, figure out what was wrong. So he could fix it, make it better. Somehow.

You shrugged. “I don’t really have a preference. We can do whatever.” You turned your back to him, seemingly scoping your surroundings, and then turned your attention to the Parisian newspaper you’d gotten somewhere. He didn’t even know you were so fluent in French until you’d dazzled him and the snobby hotelier when you first arrived at your hotel. You’d argued flawlessly, as if you’d lived in France your whole life, trying to get out of the one bed suite. Or maybe he was easily dazzled because it was _you_ to be dazzled by. 

_Fuck, Eren. You promised not to think like this._ Eren had been trying to keep his consuming thoughts about you at bay. He didn’t want to ruin you. He couldn’t live with the thought of burdening you with his feelings, couldn’t ruin whatever happiness he’d brought you by joining you on your honeymoon as a new _friend_. Anything further than something platonic was bound to end hopelessly, and then he’d lose you forever. And so, he promised himself. He couldn’t entangle himself with you, no matter the cost. Even if that meant your momentary passive aggressiveness. 

Eren skimmed his eyes down the places his phone told him were rated highly by most food critics. He had chosen the past few restaurants, too, trying to figure out what particular foods you enjoyed. The two of you had tried as many cuisines as possible, not just French, while here for the past three days. Three days since the nightclub incident at The Walls. And you didn’t seem to show _any_ sort of preference for anything. Just a mute disinterest, saying that the pho from Monday had been just as good as the bouillabaisse from Tuesday. Eren had learned nothing about you, besides your determination to be as neutral as possible. And that you preferred to sleep on the left side of the bed, though by the morning you always wound up sprawled all over. Looking oh so cute with your hair spread about your face and puffy cheeks from sleep and — _stop, Eren_.

“Okay, what about Septime? It’s on Rue de Charonne, and they have this tasting menu—”

You interrupted him: “On second thought, let’s eat at the hotel. I’m feeling like eating quickly. Sasha’s invited me out tonight, and I want to get ready together.”

Eren blinked. “Sasha? She should be home, shouldn’t she? Or at one of her family’s office branches.” Sasha’s family was reputable for having created an attentive, customizable meal plan company, and while she wasn’t going to take over a management position, she was involved in the company’s every food detail.

You nodded. “That’s exactly it. She shifted her schedule around to be at the Paris branch. Apparently there’s an issue with the student packages. She’s brought Armin and Mikasa to help devise solutions, and I’m assuming the others tagged along. Jean has already texted me about brunch plans tomorrow.” 

Eren breathed through his nose. How was he supposed to heal the distance between the two of you if you were _gone_? “And is there a reason I didn’t get the memo?”

You smiled, the first real genuine one he’d seen since the two of you’d gone to Paris. It hurt, knowing that Eren wasn’t the cause of your smile. “Girls’ night.”

Eren gritted his teeth and resisted clenching his eyes shut. He decided he’d speak to you after you came back to the hotel after being out. Even your quick witted self couldn’t get an extra room in the hotel, and so the two of you had been awkwardly dealing with the one bed situation by switching who slept on the sofa and who slept on the bed. But you still shared the suite, so you would need to talk to him. 

“Alright. Have fun, love,” Eren said, partially meaning it — he didn’t want you to be completely miserable here. Especially since he seemed to be the cause of that misery. He watched your eyes go dark, a flicker of vulnerability in their irises as you called her “love.” Eren had tried to stop calling you that, but the word slipped out often enough that it was hopeless to try and stop now. 

“You have fun, too.” You hailed a cab to the hotel, leaving Eren standing alone on the street, watching you leave. He immediately felt your absence, even if you had been doing all you could to reduce your actual presence. 

Before hailing a cab himself, Eren walked alone aimlessly through the streets, eventually stumbling into a park. He needed to _think._ How could he approach you and make it clear you missed the banter the two of you had? That he needed you back to your regular self? 

He came to a fountain and sat at one of the benches, thinking that the rush of water would inspire him somehow. On the other side of the fountain, he overheard a couple conversing. Or rather, yelling, in English thankfully. Eren knew conversation French, but if they’d been yelling furiously in French, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up.

“Hanna, I swear, it was _nothing._ She’s literally married,” said a desperate voice, of a deep baritone.

Whoever he was speaking to — Hanna — scoffed loudly. “She might be married, but she still wants to jump your bones! I can see it in her eyes, Franz. _I_ look at you like that.”

Franz looked taken aback, but he walked closer to Hanna and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Whatever the case, Hanna, you’re the only one for me. I know jealousy can be aggravating and compelling, but you don’t need to be.” Franz leaned down for a gentle kiss on Hanna’s frowning lips. Hanna eased up, and soon Eren had to take his leave because their kissing was beginning to get near-obscene. 

He hailed a cab, and on the drive he realized he had the perfect plan now. The key was to get you jealous. Jealousy would push you to action, and to speak to him with more than words of formality. And then Eren and you could finally heal your relation — friendship. _This has to work!_

{~}

“I don’t know what to do. It’s just so awkward between the two of us now,” you said, ranting to Sasha and Mikasa. The strobe lights of the club Sasha had taken the two of you two flickered above you in the lounge, but you paid it to no mind. Empty shot glasses laid in front of you, though most of them had been Sasha’s. 

“I’m sure he’ll come around. This Erwin guy and you sound like you had great chemistry. I mean, c’mon, that rooftop kiss you described. Fuck if that ain’t the literal definition of _sparks.”_ You blushed, and of course Sasha assumed you were thinking about kissing Erwin. 

But in reality, you were thinking of Eren. You couldn’t fully describe the event to Sasha and Mikasa, since that was going to be too much of a personal connection, and so your brain had grabbed the name of the handsome blond stranger that had swooped in on you and the guy you’d been dancing with. His blue eyes had been as striking as his name. 

But, even those eyes were nothing compared to the fierce green of Eren’s, a shade of ivy and moss and … and … and, _god_ you wanted Eren like you’d never wanted anything. But as far as you knew — Eren didn’t reciprocate the way you did. You had never felt like this before, not even remotely. While your relationship with Willy had initially been a dream, it was nothing like this. You and Eren had only kissed _once_ and it overshadowed the largest relationship of your life.

You explained as such to Sasha, minus the Eren bits. Mikasa appeared to be listening deeply, too, though she wasn’t as forthcoming with advice. 

“So what’s a girl to do?” you asked desperately. “If I want those sparks again just as much as I want to forget them.” You wanted to reveal that it had been Eren all along, so they could give you personal advice.

“Well — Eren’s particular favorite brand of that is to get under someone, so you can get over them,” Sasha said, tapping her chin and thinking deeply.

At the mention of his name, you blanched, particularly in this situation.

“Eren’s particular favorite brand?” you repeated, voice getting squeaky. Mikasa watched with a raised eyebrow as you poured one of Sasha’s shots into your mouth, the burning sensation of the vodka unparalleled by the twisting in your intestines. 

“Oh, yeah! Eren’s easy on the eyes, and he’s rich — so girls have been all over him forever. He’s had his fair share of heartbreaks and heartbreaking. Mikasa even dated him,” Sasha said, pouring another shot from the bottle she’d ordered to replace the one you’d taken down.

“Mikasa?” You felt like an idiot, just mindlessly repeating things in your incredulity and need to understand them. You turned towards the girl, and watched her sip on her drink, a red flush on her cheeks as a byproduct of drinking. You thought about how gorgeous Mikasa was, with her smooth as glass complexion and dark feline eyes. She had an aura about her, too, like she was just an all powerful being. And as far as you knew, she was Eren’s closest female friend, from having grown up together after Mikasa’s parents died in an unfortunate plane crash with parents named as her guardians. But you hadn’t known about this side to their history.

Finally, Mikasa spoke. “We dated briefly. I’d had a schoolgirl crush on him for most of my life, and he finally realized and took the chance while in college. We were each other’s firsts. Needless to say by Sasha’s description — though it’s slightly hyperbolic — we didn’t work out.”

You wanted more information, more to understand the enigma that was Eren Jaeger. But then Sasha made a gagging noise — the vodka shots were catching up to her. 

“Uh, I think I’m gonna take a breather. In the bathroom. With my head bent into a toilet. Be right back!” Sasha quickly sped away, reminding you of a squirrel quickly scampering away. 

“You know,” Mikasa began, turning your attention back to her. “I know it’s Eren you’re talking about. Not, um, Erwin.”

Your breath caught. “How … did you realize?”

Mikasa had a small smile on her face. “I’ve spent a lifetime looking after Eren. It’s a habit, if you will. I do it so naturally, like breathing, even if I only see him platonically now. And let’s just say I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you looked running off towards the rooftop.”

You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed to face her. Your face was hot in your hands and you were beginning to regret the shot you took earlier for having loosened your emotional boundaries.

“You can look at me, Y/N. I’m not judging you at all. If you must know, the reason Eren and I broke off was because he didn’t want to ruin our friendship by ruining the romantic relationship. He was like that with Historia, too, with the initial engagement. They tried to be romantic, but he called it quits for the same reason. And I think it’s that way for you, too.”

You looked up at her with wide eyes. “Do you really think so?” God, you sounded like a lovesick fool. But Mikasa was looking at you kindly, with a deep understanding.

“I do. I know Eren like the back of my hand, and I can almost guarantee he doesn’t want to ruin what you have.”

“Then in that case, so do I,” you said, melancholy seeping into your voice as you said it.

“I don’t think you have to completely seal away your feelings. I think you have to wait for him to realize that he _wants_ you. Not just as a friend, too. It’s the feelings he didn’t have for me and Historia, that he has for you. He’s probably more conflicted than you know.” Mikasa sounded like a wise sage to you. Her advice leveled your head, and calmed the worry and tension you’d been building up for the past few days.

“So what do I do in the meantime?”

Mikasa sipped at her drink, thinking. “I think — Sasha’s right.”

“Huh?” you said, utterly confused. Wasn’t she just telling you that Eren was conflicted?

“You need to calm your nerves, and a release of your sexual tension would probably help. And it might be the thing that pushes Eren out of the cage he’s put himself in. And if it isn’t — then you know that what he feels for you is more limited to friendship than romance. Either way, you learn something and you aren’t standing around waiting for a guy. I love Eren, but you shouldn’t be waiting for _any_ man to choose you, ever.”

“Hell, Mikasa, you’re a mastermind, an expert. How do you just _know_ the right thing to say?” You laughed, the sound reminding you how good it felt to be free from the lovesick shackles and worries you’d bound yourself with. 

Mikasa laughed. “Let’s just say it took me years and many relationships to get here. And you wouldn’t believe how many times Armin and I have had to guide the others in their romantic misfortunes.” 

You grinned, and leaned your head on Mikasa’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mikasa. I’ll take Sasha's advice, and yours.” _This has to work!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my! Miscommunication from both fronts, and double the jealousy! And can you tell I'm in love with Mikasa, too? LOL I’ve planned more of Honeymooners and it’s shaping up to be a lot of fun. I think with the pacing I have planned, it’ll be shorter than my other ongoing fics, which is just in time, too, because I had this other idea for a different, possibly enemies to lovers, modern AU. 
> 
> I look forward to your lovely comments (I literally check AO3 first thing in the morning for them lol I know I know) and feel free to check out my other stories and hit me up on tumblr @jae-ren. I love talking with people <3


	5. Terrible Tensions

  1. **Terrible Tensions**



“So that’s the famed tower,” you said, mostly mumbling to yourself. You had chosen Paris as your honeymoon location because of its reputation as the city of love, but you also looked forward to absorbing its culture and landmark locations. That mission had been put on pause amongst your emotional struggles with Eren, but you were determined to make the most of your stay in Paris, inspired by Mikasa’s declaration two nights ago.

Eren hummed. “It feels weird to be here again.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning to him. Since having spoken with Mikasa and Sasha, you had begun to talk to him more, though you were still more restrained with him than previously. So far, you’d been conversing in friendly tones and learning more about each other, having meals together, exploring the streets of Paris. (For example, you’d learned that Eren had taken over his father’s company, which managed the various patents Dr. Grisha Jaeger had developed and numerous other technologies, that his first business trip had been to Paris with his parents coming along. His brother Zeke had shirked the responsibility of taking over the company, having chosen to go into _baseball_ of all things.)

“It’s just, when you think of the Eiffel Tower, it’s from a faraway perspective. As this grand thing,” he began, separating his hands slowly to demonstrate the size.

“But up close, it’s different. Even if you’ve been here before,” you finished for him, understanding almost instinctively.

He dazzled you with a smile. “So you’re finishing my sentences now?” 

“N-no! It just made sense what you were going for,” you said, grumbling, unable to meet his eyes. Your face felt hot. There had been so many moments like this since you began speaking to him again, where the two of you coexisted like you had known each other for centuries. Him passing you a tissue right before you sneezed, your eyelids fluttering as the sign. You ordering his favorite food at the Indian restaurant you were eating dinner at without being prompted. Him putting cream and sugar in your coffee without being asked. And here was another one: finishing sentences.

Eren seemed to hold back a smirk, but failed at it. He diverted the conversation topic. “Well, do you want a picture? Here?” He gestured to the tower. 

“Ah, I mean, I would. But there’s so many people here…” you said, grateful for the change. “I wish — hey!”

Eren grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and began leading you away from the tower. 

“Where are we going?!” you asked, heart pounding as he and you sped away from the crowd of people. Perhaps from his large hands holding yours, perhaps from watching strands of hair escape his bun, perhaps still recovering from earlier. _Perhaps!_ You try to convince yourself it’s only a possibility that you’re reacting this way.

“I know a place,” he said simply, not slowing down. His long legs propelled him forward, and he held your hand tightly as he pulled you to match his speed. “Last time I was here with my parents, I couldn’t deal with the tower looking so screwed from the up-close perspective, so we found somewhere to admire the tower further away.”

You panted, lungs expanding to breathe desperately. Since when was Eren so fast? The memory of him dragging you away like this felt like deja-vu … but you knew this time, it wouldn’t end with a kiss. Even if you hoped.

“If you want a far away view, we can just go back to our hotel,” you said, swallowing your thoughts away. “The balcony’s got a beautiful view.” The Tybur family was rich as hell, so you had spared no expense with your honeymoon suite. Even if you now (slightly) regretted the one bed setup, the suite was perfect, including its balcony view. 

“No! You don’t have a sense of adventure?” Eren asked, challenging. The two of you slowed down as you approached a set of stairs, leading up to a promenade overlooking the Seine River, with a view of the tower, too. “We’re already here, anyway.”

The Eiffel tower was still nearby, but in a further view. And there weren’t many people on the promenade, nearly none compared to how many people were actually standing near the tower. You admired the tower, standing proudly high above the trees. It gave you a certain feeling of wonder, being so close yet so far away from it.

“Wow,” you said, the word mostly an exhale of breath from your exertions running at Eren’s speed. You turned to him. “But next time, _please_ run slower.”

Eren laughed. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how tall I am.” 

You rolled your eyes, and jokingly tiptoed as high as you could, bringing yourself closer to Eren’s level. 

“Hah! How’s it feel now?” you said, taunting. “Same level, Eren.” You wobbled a little, but you kept your balance. 

Eren licked the top row of his teeth, preparing to say something. But a nearby stranger came by the two of you, and spoke in rapid French: “ _Vous êtes le couple le plus mignon_!” You translated the phrase in your mind automatically: “You two are the cutest couple!” The statement made you stagger, and Eren immediately helped you balance by grabbing your waist, his large hands lingering on the small of your back. 

Eren smiled politely at the stranger.

“Um, they said we — I, look funny,” you mumbled, translating to him, unable to tell the truth. Eren’s eyes gleamed with mirth, and maybe something else. You wondered if Eren understood any part of the sentence. 

Just as you were about to respond, Eren responded for you. _Fuck,_ you thought.

“ _Merci beaucoup, mais je ne suis pas son petit ami_ ,” Eren said. _Thank you very much, but I’m not her boyfriend._ His phrasing wasn’t as smooth and hurried as a fluent speaker, but it was conversational. Easy to understand, as he lingered over every syllable. Part of you was turned on by his French, but that part quickly was overshadowed by your mortification of being caught red handed in a lie. And the tiniest part of you was hurt by the truth of Eren’s statement. It would’ve been a nice fantasy, even momentarily, to be — a couple. 

The stranger themselves looked just as embarrassed as you felt. They offered to take a picture of the two of you as an apology, and Eren accepted on your behalf, passing his phone over. There was no way you were going to be able to respond at all, to anything with how muddled your mind was.

Eren’s hand was warm on your back, still in the same placement from when he’d helped set you right. The stranger non verbally instructed you to step closer, waving their hands and pointing at you. _Fuck it_ , you thought. You’d embarrassed yourself enough, and so you went in big. 

You brought yourself closer to Eren, pressing your shoulder into the top of your chest. You tucked your head just below Eren’s, tilting it slightly to make sure your hair framed your face nicely. Eren’s shoulder jumped in surprise, but he obliged, pulling you closer, hand moving from the small of your back to rest around your waist instead. You were so near to Eren that strands of his hair tickled your cheek. The stranger took pictures furiously, changing the orientation of Eren’s phone every now and then. You inhaled in Eren’s scent, black coffee and vanilla, warm and spicy. A part of you wondered if he would still taste of citrus and sugar … 

“Très beau! Très beau!” said the stranger, beaming. _Very beautiful, very handsome._ Eren moved his hand off you, and accepted his phone back from the stranger, who waved a goodbye and left.

You held a breath, waiting for Eren to break the silence that presented itself without the stranger. 

“Well, you _did_ look funny,” he finally said. His eyes gleamed, eyes upturned as he looked at you with a wicked grin. “And beautiful, too.”

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, shoving him and failing. Your hands pushed into his hard chest, and only managed to get a laugh from Eren. 

“What? Funny and beautiful is exactly my type,” Eren said. He appeared to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, grin falling from his face. “I’m sorry. I know we promised.” 

You swallowed tightly. “It’s fine. I’m in the mood for a chocolate croissant. Are you?”

Eren nodded. “We’re in the 7th arrondissement, right? I know just the place.” He appeared to grab your hand again, but stopped himself just in time.

Your heart clenched. “Eren, you could be a tour guide. Y’know, with all the places you keep taking me to!” You began walking forward, hoping it was the right direction. It was, and Eren followed after you.

“And leave my company to sink? Maybe, with enough convincing,” he replied almost instantly. Both of you were desperate to diffuse the tension with banter, it seemed. 

And it worked. The two of you spent the rest of the day laughing and bickering. The occasional moments of too-heavy flirting filled the air with a tension ready to positively _burst_ and consume the two of you, erasing whatever promise you had made on the rooftop — but one of you _always_ pulled back. Always. Sometimes it was Eren, sometimes it was you.

 _I need to get Eren fucked out of my system,_ you thought, thinking back to Sasha’s advice. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. And thankfully, just as you and Eren finished dinner and were heading back to the hotel, Sasha delivered, in the form of a text that mirrored your exact needs.

{~}

SASHA-BEAR: _are u ready to get fucked!_

YOU: _depends on the context…_

SASHA-BEAR: _come to the Underground club tonight! I’ll txt u the address later. Levi Squad is playingggg_

YOU: _Levi Squad? here in Paris !!_

SASHA-BEAR: _yes, and of course i’ve got vip tix for u and eren. 10pm ;) and we’ll find you a man to forget Mr. E._

YOU: _we’ll be there. who’s mr. e!_

SASHA-BEAR: _uh, the man you’re trying to forget??? erwin??_

YOU: _oh. see, i already forgot ;)_

_Sasha-Bear hearted your message._

{~}

You put your phone down after forwarding the address Sasha sent you to Eren, who wants to call for a taxi ahead of time. She also said she had a surprise for you, which made you smile. It was probably going to be a guy she was trying to set you up with, to forget “Mr. E.” You can’t believe you almost slipped with the whole Erwin-replacing-Eren situation. When Sasha had texted about a Mr. E, your mind had immediately leapt to Eren, having completely forgotten your white lie. Thank goodness for your quick response. 

“So who exactly is playing there? At the Underground?” Eren asked, buttoning up his shirt fully in the mirror adjacent to where you were doing your makeup. The two of you were getting ready side by side in the suite’s bathroom. 

You pursed your lips, sealing in your red lipstick. “Levi Squad. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard of them.”

At Eren’s blank stare, you shook your head. “I’ve never been more ashamed of you, Eren.”

“I’ll see them tonight, and decide how I feel about them there,” Eren said. He straightened his collar, and undid a button. And then another. “One button or two?”

You looked at Eren in the mirror. His hair wasn’t in its signature bun, instead hanging loosely around him. He wore a black silk button up with a pair of loose grey slacks and a thick shiny black belt. His hands were stacked with rings of silver and gold, defying whatever fashion rule said you couldn’t mix metals because his hands looked _godly._ You wanted them around your neck, but that thought alerted you that you’d been looking at him for too long.

“Two buttons. And maybe a chain or something? Your neck is looking bare.” You turned back to yourself, and pressed dabs of liquid blush to your cheeks. 

“Hmm … I didn’t bring any with me,” he said, leaning his head on the counters and staring at you. Your face heat up as you felt his gaze linger on your face, your bare shoulders, the swell of your breasts. “Do you need help zipping your dress?” 

“I’d appreciate the help,” you said, voice quiet, embarrassed. You were wearing a tightly fitted strapless dress, a crimson red so dark it was almost black. You hadn’t zipped it fully, having struggled with getting it up all the way. 

Eren walked behind you. His fingers skimmed the middle of your back, as if searching for the zipper. You knew for a fact that the zipper was easily visible, but you said nothing. You just lavished in his touch. He zipped you up slowly, and a part of his bare finger glided across your back. You shivered.

“Why’re your hands so cold?” you asked, trying to explain your shivering. His hands could’ve been hot as a fire, and you still would’ve said the same thing.

“Dunno,” Eren said. He smoothed the back of your dress down, hands just missing the curve of your ass. “Wrinkles. Had to fix them.” You quirked an eyebrow up, but still said nothing. The both of you were only trying to fool yourselves. But a promise was a promise. 

You jumped away from him. “Well, I’m all done and ready. And if you want a chain or two, I’ve got some plain ones.” You reached into your jewelry box, and pulled out a short, thick one that would rest on his collarbones, and a long thin one that would extend down to his chest, peeking past the unbuttoned shirt. They were perfect layering material. 

Eren smiled, accepting them. He frowned as he looked at them. “Oh, I’m going to need your help now. Fingers too big for these tiny clasps.” 

You breathed in, trying to calm yourself. “Alright.” You tried to keep your voice steady. “But you’re taller than me, so I’m going to need you to crouch.”

“Want me on my knees?” Eren asked. His voice was innocent, but your thoughts were far from it. _Get it together!_

You nodded. Eren sat on the floor. You pushed his hair aside, and clipped the necklaces in place. You made sure to repeat what Eren did, letting your fingers linger on the back of his neck. You even fumbled the clasps for longer than you had to. 

“Done!” Even if you wished you weren’t. 

“Alright, let’s go. It’s a quarter to ten. We’ll be a little late, with the drive,” Eren said, putting on an expensive looking watch, staring at the hands as time ticked.

“I’ll let Sasha know,” you said, grabbing your purse and a coat. The nighttime could get cold. Eren put on a long trench coat himself, and the both of you slipped into a pair of shoes: you, a pair of heels with a buckle around your ankle, and Eren into a pair of leather moccasins with metallic embellishments. 

The two of you paused at the doorway on the way out, at the full length mirror that waited by the exit. 

You swallowed. “We look great,” you finally said, holding back any excessive compliment. Like how fucking sexy he looked, how you wanted his hands to wrap around your neck hard enough to leave indentations of his rings, how you wanted to wrap your legs around his waist and — 

“You look beautiful, you know. _So_ out of my league,” Eren said, interrupting your wild thoughts. 

You laughed dryly. “Thanks, Eren. It’s a good thing you’re not trying to date me then.” You opened the door, and walked away without him.

{~}

Eren watched you leave, and held back the thousand and one things he wanted to say to you. How you were hotter than hell, how he wanted to kiss the red lipstick off your face, how he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, fuse your body with his. But he said nothing. He closed the hotel door behind him, and the door locked into place.

When he got downstairs and outside, you were already inside the cab. The two of you said nothing to each other for a long while, even if Eren ached to fill the silence. The two of you had made such great progress forward — he couldn’t bear to ruin it. 

“Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence. “What do you like about Levi Squad?” 

Eren watched your brows furrow into contemplation, your lips loosely separating. “I’d have to say … how dedicated they are to their music? And their mysterious aura — they rose to fame because of their mystery. They used to go by No Name, and they even wear these loose bandages over their eyes.”

“No Name?” Eren asked. That sounded stupid. Eren said so, which caused you to laugh. Your laugh in turn made Eren smile; he could get drunk off your laughter, high off the twinkle in your eyes when you did. 

“No Name. Levi Squad was kind of a fan assigned name, after the lead singer’s identity was revealed. And then when they were signed to Smith Entertainment, the name kept,” you explained after recovering from Eren’s honest statement.

“Huh,” Eren said. He made to say something else, but the cab driver alerted the two of you that you were here.

You called up Sasha, and Eren led you to the front entrance, cutting ahead of the very long line that wrapped around the street. You and Eren waited by the entrance, waiting on Sasha to come through; the security wouldn’t clear you since you only had pictures of the tickets Sasha had gotten for you.

“Eren! Y/N!” came a peppy voice. The auburn haired, bright eyed girl Eren had known for forever emerged out of the door, a tall blond man Eren didn’t recognize standing behind her. “You’re here!”

Eren smiled, and hugged Sasha. “We’re here, potato girl.” The name had stuck in childhood, when Sasha was always found with her hand in a bag of chips. She’d even gone as far as stealing Eren’s and the others. 

Sasha had a shit-eating grin on her face, and Eren quickly realized it wasn’t directed at him, but rather you. 

He turned to you; you looked so surprised your mouth was hanging open in a little “o” shape that he thought was rather cute. You were looking at the blond behind Sasha.

“Eren, Y/N. I’d like you to meet Erwin Smith — he’s the one who signed Levi Squad. When I told him you were coming, Y/N, he wanted to see you right away.” Sasha winked at you, and you smiled feebly back. Eren wondered what that wink, that smile, meant; he was quickly distracted by some things he didn’t like.

Eren did _not_ like the way Erwin Smith was looking at you, his blue eyes loosely grazing your frame. Eren did _not_ like the way his stomach clenched and seemed to reshape itself in his abdomen out of some sort of premonition of _loss_ , a feeling he couldn’t understand. And most of all, Eren did _not_ like the way you engaged Erwin in conversation, curved away towards him. Away from Eren.

This was going to be a very bad night for Eren. You laughed as Erwin said something, and his stomach tightened again. Your laugh had been for Erwin, not Eren. _Fuck,_ he thought. It was going to be worse than bad. It was already terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) Which Mr. E are you rooting for? LMAO this chapter was so filled with tension I nearly burst while writing it alsmdlamdsl stolen glances, secret touches - that's my kinda romance ... 
> 
> Looking forward to your comments, lovelies! I'm also slowly posting Honeymooners to my tumblr, so please support me on there if you can too! (https://jae-ren.tumblr.com/)


	6. Burning Stares

  1. **Burning Stares**



You felt like a kid in a candy store, a pseudo-sugar rush infiltrating your senses the more Erwin stared at you with those deep blue eyes of his. The two of you were sitting next to each other at a table in the lounge, talking quietly to each other, Erwin easily dropping compliments to you just as he’d praised you when you’d first met at The Walls. You were learning just how much of a smooth talker he was — he could probably convince you to sacrifice your life for him with how honeyed and passionate his words were.

Eren was across the two of you, talking with Sasha, and you knew that the others were bound to come by soon. Sasha, Mikasa, and Jean were in Paris already. You had already had brunch with Jean, just as you’d told Eren, and during your conversation you’d learned that Armin would be flying in later to join you all in the Maldives, and Connie and Marco had tagged along with Jean’s flight and would therefore probably be here tonight. 

“I really can’t believe my luck,” Erwin said, crossing his legs, throwing one over his thigh and lounging gracefully. His silk button-down tightened around his body at the movement and your gaze lingered on the brief peek of his skin showing through the buttons straining to keep hold. “To see you here again, beautiful as ever.”

“Oh, stop it!” you said, secretly taking in the compliments like a preening cat. “You’re inflating my ego.” 

“With just cause,” Erwin said, tucking a short strand of hair behind your ear, though given its length it popped back out. “Stubborn hair you’ve got there.” 

You nearly swooned at Erwin’s actions, but your reaction was dulled by the sensation of Eren’s eyes on you. You had done your best to ignore all of his flitting stares burning into you out of the corner of your eye, but his reaction to Erwin’s tucking of your hair was the last straw. It made you feel guilty for some reason, even if jealousy  _ was _ the point of this. You turned your back to him all the way, and focused entirely on Erwin, away from Eren. 

_ He _ had been the one to make the promise. So what if you flirted with someone else in an effort to forget him? And so what if you wished Erwin’s blond hair was brunette waves? It didn’t matter, long as you  _ looked _ like you were over Eren. And, boy, were you determined to. It would make it easier for the both of you to continue being … being friends.

You huffed out a laugh, indulging in Erwin, bringing your flirting to the max. “What, no compliments for my hair? After all you’ve said so far, I was getting used to it.” You cocked your head to the side, faux-pouting. 

“Alright, I’ll indulge you. Oh, my benevolent goddess, my darling treasure: your hair is to me the most beautiful of all,” Erwin said, bringing his palms together grandly as if praying to you. You giggled, and fluffed up your hair teasingly, as if you were in a hair commercial. 

Erwin slid closer to you, his knee touching the side of your thigh. And suddenly, he dove into the crook of your neck. His nose slid against the skin of your neck as he inhaled deeply. You were too shocked to do anything besides rapidly fluttering your eyelashes as you blinked. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, his deep sultry voice clearly conveying he wasn’t sorry at all. “Wanted to make a comment on the scent of your hair.”

“Well? Enlighten me,” you said, recovering from the shock. You repeated Erwin’s actions, making sure to also brush your nose against his skin, playing close attention to the smells, taking in his bold cologne and fresh shampoo. “I can go first.”

When you retracted your head to face him, Erwin looked like he was going to kiss you right then and there. And he probably would have, if you didn’t continue talking. You were unsure if you continued because you were hesitant to kiss him, or because you wanted to share your thoughts.

“You smell like … cardamom and oranges? Think that’s your cologne. And your shampoo smells fresh, like clean water, or the smell after rain,” you said, tapping your chin in thought, trying to choose the right words. “So overall, clean and spicy scents.”

“Pretty on the nose,” Erwin said. “I’d say you smell like a flower field. With notes of vanilla. And I won’t lie, lots of alcohol.” He grinned at you, and grabbed his drink to take a long gulp of it.

You laughed. “Also on the nose! And yes, I’ve been drinking a lot more than usual. Trying to drown out some thoughts, I suppose.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

You nearly blanched. Curse your loose lips, courtesy of your lowering inhibitions. But you kept your cool, and played the seductive card. “That’s for me to know, and you to find you.” You finished the rest of your drink, and poured yourself another one from the many bottles littered at the table, choosing a particularly sweet one. As you poured, you noticed Sasha and Eren were nowhere to be found. They’d left at some point during your flirtations with Erwin — well this was a good time as any to question Erwin.

“So, Erwin - how do you know Sasha?” you asked, trying to figure out how your life had come to this. Sasha, as far as you know, hadn’t told Erwin about your whole fake story, but you needed to find out if he did just in case, and fix it early before either of them figured out the real cause.

Erwin laughed, chuckling. He took a sip of his drink before responding. “Believe it or not, we already knew each other. Her family’s company uses some of my stars as sponsors, so we’ve known each other in that light. Plus, she’s become friends with some of them, even to the point of catering Levi’s birthday party.” 

Okay — them knowing each other before was a good sign, since Sasha would’ve mentioned Erwin  _ Smith _ specifically when you first told her the story. Your eyes glittered as you brightened at the mention of Levi. 

Erwin laughed again. “So I see you’re a fan.”

You nodded furiously. “Definitely. His music got me through some tough moments in university,” you said sheepishly. 

“I’ll introduce you post No Name’s performance.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “I thought their official name was changed to Levi Squad?”

“Officially, definitely,” he said. “But I knew them as No Name when I discovered them, and so it’s kind of stuck for me.” 

“Mmh.” You took a sip of your drink. “I wish I’d been a fan of them during their early days. Pre-label signing. Be a part of the mystery and all that.”

“Don’t bring up their early days to Levi. He’s lost a few bandmates and prefers not to think back,” Erwin instructed, non-verbally asking for a sip of your drink by stretching his hand out.

You put a horrified face. “ _ Lost? _ ” You passed him your drink.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Erwin said, laughing, taking a sip of your drink and grimacing. “Ugh. That’s too sweet for me — but anyway, it’s not that dramatic. Just changed careers once they became mainstream. They’re actually looking for more members right now, but Levi, Hange, and Miche — oh, and Moblit — are doing pretty well for themselves.” He passed your drink back to you, and you briefly wondered what he was drinking, as he’d been steadily drinking one through your entire exchange.

“Can I audition?” you joked, giggling. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sure if you heard me singing, your eardrums would burst.”

“No, no, you’ve got me interested now,” Erwin said, leaning in to you more naturally. 

“Alright,” you said with a smirk. “Let me sing along to this song, I’ve heard it before.” You sang along to the current song the DJ was playing, voice breathy and enthusiastic, not at all as bad as you said you were. Though, granted, you were nowhere close to the professional level required to actually audition for a now famous internationally acclaimed band. 

When you finished, Erwin had a small smile on his face. “Not bad.”

You smacked his shoulder playfully. “Not bad? That’s it? I’m hurt, Erwin.”

His eyes gleamed. “Sorry, beautiful. But, I will admit, you can sing to me anytime you want. Could look at you for ages.” Your face heat up. The air between the two of you was charged with attraction, and you found yourself leaning in to the degree Erwin had leaned in, faces close to— 

“Er, sorry to interrupt,” Connie said. “Sasha wanted me to ask you to join her on the dance floor.” 

You sprung back from Erwin like a spring recoiling. The ground could swallow you up right now, and you’d thank it.

“A-alright. Get me one of your drinks, I’m curious what it is — I’ll be back, Erwin,” you said to Erwin as a parting, nearly running away from him, Connie following behind you. 

“Wait up!” He said. “If you run away, how am I gonna show you where Sasha is?”

You slowed your pace, and huffed out a laugh. “ ‘orry, Connie. Hey! That kinda rhymed.” 

Connie rolled his eyes, and led the way, linking his arms with yours, elbows hooked together. “You’re tipsy, huh?”

“Maybe.” That was a definite possibility; the drinks were catching up to you.

Connie helped you find Sasha in the middle of the dance floor easily; she was dancing with a wavy haired blond who was so obviously infatuated with her, cheeks red and eyes glued to her wild dancing form. 

“Y/N!” Sasha yelled, throwing her arms around you, unlinking you and Connie with the force of her hug. “Sorry to interrupt you and Erwin, but I wanted to check in you and make sure he wasn’t hurting you again.”

“Again?!” Connie said, eyes bugging out. He looked murderous.

“Ah, ignore her, Connie. Erwin did nothing.” Connie looked appeased by your words, but still looked towards the direction of the lounge suspiciously. 

“Anyway, Sasha — this Erwin isn’t the same as, uh, the Erwin I was talking about,” you said, standing awkwardly. You struggled to really put your words together, partly with your tipsiness, partly with the general situation. 

“Oh, really? That’s so strange. I asked Erwin about The Walls, and he’d been there the same night we were, and so I figured… well, whatever! You can use this Erwin to get over the other Erwin!” Sasha’s enthusiastic energy was overwhelming, and so you found yourself laughing and shaking your head.

“Okay, okay, will do! By the way, where’s—”

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you to my … this is Niccolo,” she said hurriedly, pointing to the blond. He waved sheepishly, put on the spot. “He’s head chef of the French HQ, but he cooks so damn well I’m promoting him.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the desire to tease the girl as she’d teased you, but you found yourself saying: “And dating him?”

The two people in question blushed, different shades of red blossoming on their faces. Niccolo stuttered, Sasha scrambled, and Connie snickered. 

“And fucking him,” Connie added. 

Laughing and suddenly gleeful, you began swaying to the music, following Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie’s rhythm as the four of you danced around each other.

“Okay, fine. Keep it under wraps. I shouldn’t be dating him,” Sasha said, grumbling.

“Yes, please, if you can. I’ll make you the finest dinner at my restaurant,” Niccolo said with a slight French accent. “On the house.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you two. I’m not going to sell you out,” you said, grinning.

“ _ I _ might,” Connie said, dodging a whack from Sasha effortlessly. “Tabloids have been lacking on the Sasha content lately.” She didn’t miss the second time, and Connie winced.

“Anyway,” you said. “Have you guys seen Eren?” You wondered where he was, had wondered the second you’d gotten here and he wasn’t with Sasha and Niccolo.

“He went to get some drinks at the bar and never came back,” Sasha said. “But forget about him. You’ve left Erwin alone for too long.”

Your heart beat faster at the second part of Sasha’s dialogue. She had nailed your biggest dilemma right on the head: continue with Eren, or continue with Erwin. One was a bad decision … and the other was undecided. Hell, both of them were bad and undecided at the same time. You grumbled to yourself.

“What was that?” Connie asked, turning to you.

“Nothing, just saying I’m going to go find him,” you said. Before resuming with Erwin, you would find Eren. Maybe see how he was doing, see if Mikasa’s jealousy theory had held up. You left the dance circle, and moved towards the bar area, gently shoving past groups of drunk dancers. Everyone was having a good time, and honestly, so were you—

Well. You could cross  _ that _ thought out. You were tempted to stop in your path towards Eren and the beautiful girl he was talking to, but knew that would be worse than interrupting if anyone caught you and the look in your eyes you were sure was all too telling of how you felt about that scene.

“Something fruity, please,” you said to a busy bartender, sliding yourself right next to Eren on his barstool, hip hitting his arm. The bartender smiled at you stiffly, and gave the girl Eren was talking to a dirty look.

“Ah! Sorry” The girl exclaimed. To your shock, she quickly jumped over the bar to land neatly on the other side, her red waves of hair flowing with her agile movement. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, turning to you, throwing on an apron and tying it around her back as she spoke. “I’m Carly. What can I get you?”

“She’ll have the spiked blackberry vanilla lemonade,” Eren said smoothly, interjecting, sliding his credit card across the counter.

“Oh, you know her?” Carly asked as she began whipping up whatever drink Eren had asked for, putting in blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice into a blender. She took his card and swiped it before handing it back.

“Yeah,” Eren said. “We’re honeymooners.”

Carly paused abruptly in her quick movements, and the ice she was putting into a cup fell awkwardly on the marble counter, clattering to the ground. “Excuse me?”

You sighed, realizing you’d need to rescue Eren from the logical assumptions Carly was probably making, especially as Eren had probably been flirting with her just previously judging by her still bright cheeks and Eren’s cheeky little smile.

“We’re doing it as friends,” you said, words draining whatever energy your adrenaline from interrupting the two had created. 

“Friends?” Carly asked, cleaning up the ice mess. “How does that work?”

“Long story.”

“Her fiance was a shitbag, mine was in love with someone else,” Eren said, picking a small ice chunk out of the cup and tossing it into his mouth, chewing on it. “Not that long.”

“Hey! That’s unsanitary,” Carly said, moving it away from him. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” you said dryly. “Sorry for interrupting the two of you. Just so thirsty from dancing. By the way Eren, Sasha and Connie are wondering where you went.” They  _ weren’t _ , but whatever necessary to actually separate the two. Even if you should be tamping down on your jealousy, you couldn’t hold back from the encompassing feelings.

“Ah,” Carly began, a peachy blush working its way up her tanned skin. She put the finishing touches on your drink, and slid it over. “There wasn’t anything to interrupt.” You felt bad for agitating the sweet and chill girl.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, trying to force the biting tone out of your voice and replacing it with something gentler. You grabbed the drink and took a sip of it, tasting something sweet and tart at once, with the usual burn of alcohol. It wasn’t the citrus drink you were craving, but it was still good. 

Eren tilted his head, appraising you. “If anyone’s being interrupted — it’s you and Erwin. How come you aren’t with him?”

You clenched your jaw. Something about his tone, the way he was looking at you, agitated you beyond measure. “Just came for a drink, saw you here. I’ll be going now,” you said, taking off, fuming.

As you walked back to Erwin, a flurry of emotions swirled within you: annoyance, for Eren’s behavior, guilt for how you’d had ulterior motives for Carly, regret for your actions, and anger at yourself for letting yourself get this worked up. If you were allowed to “move on” … so was Eren.

When you got back to where you and Erwin had been sitting previously, he was nowhere to be found. You groaned, and slipped onto your seat without any grace. You checked your phone for a text from him, and found that he had texted you explaining he’d gone to find Levi Squad and prep pre-performance.

“Alright there, Y/N?” asked a voice you recognized instantly. It was Mikasa, still wearing her outer layers. She was walking up to the seating location with a tray of variety drinks, which she placed on the table in front of you.

“Just peachy,” you grumbled, downing the rest of the drink in favor of not having to explain further.

Mikasa sat down next to you. “Is it Eren?” She sighed deeply, as if personally aggrieved on your behalf.

“Yes. No. Ugh. It’s mostly me,” you said, finally settling on the problem. 

“How did the jealousy plan go?” Mikasa asked, taking off her sleek leather coat, revealing a loose satin top a few shades lighter than your crimson dress.

“Didn’t really get to play it yet,” you said. “But as far as it has been going —  _ nothing _ . If anything,  _ I’ve _ been the jealous one. And I hate it.”

Mikasa frowned. “Really?” She reached up to flick something off your cheek. “Eyelash.”

“Oh. Right, well, Sasha found an Erwin. Not just any Erwin, either — but Erwin  _ Smith. _ ”

“No way,” Mikasa said, eyes widening. “Was that the real Erwin you based your story on? Fuck.”

You nodded as an answer. “Fuck is right — but we hit it off. But then, when I went to see Eren … he wasn’t phased.  _ I _ was the jealous one, because he was flirting with a different girl.” You slumped down in your seat.

Mikasa patted your arm in lieu of saying anything.

“So I guess I’m admitting defeat. The promise was made, and so I guess it’ll be kept.” You threw your head back and stared at the ceiling, melting into the sleek cushions.

“Well, you don’t have to go that far yet. Like you said, you didn’t get to play it out fully.”

“I’m just thinking about how I reacted to something I was only assuming, while Eren didn’t react to something that was so obvious…”

“Where is he?” 

“At the bar.” 

“That means there was a chance he didn’t see your full interactions with Erwin. Maybe he couldn’t bear to see it, maybe he ran off to find a girl to forget you with. There’s too many possibilities for you to give up this easily.”

You straightened abruptly, empowered by her words, and turned your entire body to face the girl. “Mikasa!”

Mikasa smiled, raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You’re the best. I’m never going to think again if I have you to be the logical one.”

She huffed out a laugh, and you laughed with her, feeling light and loose again.

“Why’d you get all these drinks anyway?” you asked, motioning to the tray she’d brought in. 

“Jean ordered them, and asked me to bring them to our area of the club. He came in briefly, but left soon after to go pickup Marco.” 

“Mmh,” you hummed. “What do you say we go dance? I’m pretty sure Levi Squad is up soon.”

“You’re a fan?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Believe it or not, you’re the second person to ask me that here tonight. Yes, I am. Not too hardcore, though.”

“Levi’s my cousin,” Mikasa admitted, dropping the fact casually as she bent down to adjust the straps of her heels.

Your jaw dropped open at the fact. “Seriously? But — I thought you hadn’t had any guardians to take over. He’s so much older.”

“That’s true, but he’s a  _ distant _ cousin. I only realized when I found out we had the same last name at his birthday party Sasha catered. Then we began talking, since he also lost his mother and never knew his father. We’re actually related, and it’s been nice to have someone to call family. Even if the Yeager’s are my found family.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, unsure of what else to say. “I’m glad you have that through him. His last name was never revealed, so I never would’ve connected the dots. Though the two of you have that mysterious hot look.”

“Thank, Y/N. For the compliment, too.” She smiled at you brightly. Then, she brought her hands together in a clap of sorts. “Now, without further adieu — let’s dance!” She grabbed a shot, passed you one, and once the two of you finished drinking it in one go, she grabbed your hand and dragged you away.

{~}

Your grin stretched across your face hurt your cheeks and you felt alive like you never had before. Levi Squad had just finished performing, and the Underground had come alight with an energy unparalleled to any other concert or club you’d ever been to. Mikasa and you had found Connie and crew again, and you had had the most fun of your life dancing with them, losing yourself to both familiar music and new unreleased music. 

“Y/N, you’re literally glowing,” Jean said, tapping the tip of your nose.

You let out a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s just sweat, Jean. Which you just touched.” 

Jean wrinkled his own nose, and pretended to wipe his hand on your back furiously, eliciting more laughter out of you. 

“I can see the two of you are having fun,” Eren said cooly, joining the group, Carly in tow. 

“Eren! Nice to finally see your dumb face again,” Connie said. “Where’ve you been? And who’s this?”

“Back to you, dumbass. This is Carly. She works here.”

“But my shift is over now, so I figured I should join Eren,” she said, pitching in. “Judging from his stories, all of you sound—”

“Annoying?” Jean teased.

“Cool!” Sasha shouted. Niccolo pursed his lips, and his lips quirked as if holding back a laugh.

“Rude,” you said. “Stop interrupting the girl. We’re glad to have you.” You pasted a bright smile on your face. You were determined to undo your previous actions. 

“What she said,” Mikasa affirmed. “But anyway, Y/N, let’s go find Levi. Pretty sure Erwin will be there, too.” She threw you a wink, that seemed so out of character for her that you were nearly floored, until you saw the calculated gleam in her eyes, the way her dark irises had flipped over to gauge Eren’s reaction briefly. 

“Let me accompany you two,” Eren said, voice gruff. “Curious to see Levi again. Last time he punched me in the face.”

You were tempted to ask him for more information, especially since you had thought Eren didn’t know about Levi Squad though he appeared to know Levi himself, but decided to ignore him in case your question seemed like you were agreeing. You’d let Mikasa decide. 

“You  _ can _ come, but you’d be leaving Carly alone,” Mikasa said, crossing her arms.

“I’ll be fine here,” Carly expressed, gesturing to the crowd of people around her. 

“See? It’s settled,” Eren said, beginning to walk ahead.

“You don’t even know where you’re going!” Mikasa called after him, exasperated. The two of you sped up to join Eren’s long-legged propelling across the dance floor.

“ _ Where _ are we going?” you asked. “The stage area is very separate from here.” The stage that Levi Squad had performed on seemed to be levitating above the air, like it was somewhere between the first and second floor, and you hadn’t been able to even identify where they’d come onto the stage from. Before they’d come out, the stage had just looked like an interesting design choice, with the DJ’s station being on the center of the second floor balcony opening up to the dance floor, surrounded by a thick wall of speakers. (The lounge areas were littered around the entire club, not separated off to one location like The Walls.)

“I’ve been here before,” Mikasa said. “Levi had invited me last year. There’s a secret entrance that only certain people have knowledge of. It’s an area located within the bar’s stockroom.” 

“Oh,” you said, floored by how this one club could hold so much. 

“Aren’t you curious as to why Levi punched me?” Eren asked, piping up and changing the conversation topic.

“Eager for attention, are you?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“Only for yours,” he replied, hands briefly ghosting over your arm, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch. You nearly recoiled, but kept your cool.

“Too bad for you, I’d rather hear it from Levi’s mouth.” You gave him a cool look, eyes narrowed and challenging.

“I’m hurt! Mikasa, can you tell how hurt I am?” Eren pouted.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes as the three of you approached the bar. She spoke quietly with one of the bartenders at the head of the long bar, and you noticed the bartender nodding. They then stepped out of the back, and opened a door nearby that was so well concealed with the dark walls that you never would’ve guessed. The door knob itself was so similar to the silver embellishments on the walls, too. 

The three of you walked into the back, where bottles and bottles of wine and alcohol rested in neat arranged rows and columns. Just before where they were arranged, there was a separate door, which the bartender held open for the three of you to enter.

You followed in after Mikasa, and ascended the stairs, Eren following after you. 

The backstage lounge area is just as luxe as the rest of the Underground, but in a more rustic fashion, with (most likely fake) brick paneling and warm neutrals of browns and coppers filling the room. A large comfy sofa set is in the far corner of a room, with a television, record turntable, and stereos set up across from it. On the other side, closest to the door, is a mini kitchen and bar setup, complete with cooking utensils and bar stools. There are several vinyl records hanging on the walls, some of which are from Levi Squad judging by the familiar white lacquer platter and silvery center. 

You recognized Levi and his bandmates lounging on the seating set up, with Erwin talking with who you presume is Hange near the kitchen area. 

Erwin brightened when he saw you, and walked over to greet you, Mikasa, and Eren. Hange followed behind him, sipping from a Coke can, and holding an unopened one in their free hand. 

“I was just leaving to find you,” Erwin said, putting a hand around your shoulder to squeeze at it. The action warmed you. “How’d you get here?”

“I’ve been here before,” Mikasa said, eyes roving around the room until they landed on Levi, who just noticed the group of you. He began to walk over.

“Oh, I recognize you,” Hange said. They took a deep swig of their soda. “Fizzy! Levi didn’t tell us you’d be here, though.” 

“Tch, I didn’t know either,” Levi said, having finally reached everyone. “Where’d you get the tickets? We sold out minutes after tickets dropped.”

Mikasa shrugged. Her eyes were glued to Hange’s extra soda, who noticed and silently passed her the extra. 

“Sasha got them for us. Not sure how,” you said, finally speaking, although hesitating. After all — this was Levi and Hange. Levi and Hange! 

Eren whistled. “The fangirl speaks.” You scowled, and punched his arm.

Levi raised an eyebrow. You were unsure if it was at Eren’s comment, or at you punching Eren. “Approve of the violence, but who are you?”

“This is Y/N. Friend of Mikasa and crew.” Erwin took over explaining before either Mikasa, Eren, or you could speak up. 

“Not a friend of yours? You were real cozy were her, Smith,” Levi said, eyebrows jumping at Erwin’s short description. “So a fuck buddy?” Levi smirked, eyes narrowed teasingly at Erwin. Your face burned, and Eren visibility stiffened. You had not expected this from  _ Levi _ . Of all people! 

Erwin, however, took it in stride. “Not at all. Though if she were, I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 

You laughed awkwardly, unsure of which direction to move in, what to say, or even what to do. 

“Levi,” Mikasa said, stern look on her face. “Apologize to Y/N.”

“Ah! You don’t have to,” you said, waving your arms around. 

“No, no, I agree with Mikasa,” Eren said, glower on his face. “ _ Apologize.” _ His voice was a growl that seemed to go ten octaves lower than his normal speaking voice. You felt a shiver snake up your spine.

Levi’s gaze slid over to Eren’s form such that his irises were in the corners of his eyes, frown on his face. But, turning to you, his expression relaxed into a neutral one. 

“Mikasa — and I suppose the brat, too — are right. I overstepped my bounds, Y/N, and I’m sorry about that,” he said, honestly. Another situation you’d never anticipated: Levi apologizing to you. 

“Apology accepted,” you said. Truth be told, you didn’t mind it; it was useful to see Eren’s reaction. Maybe he was more affected than he was letting on … 

“But why’d you leap to the conclusion of us being fuck buddies?” you questioned, genuinely curious. Judging by your apparent closeness with Erwin, there were other conclusions for him to draw, but he had not drawn either of them, from girlfriend to coworker. 

Levi pursed his lips, thinking. “Erwin doesn’t really do relationships.”

Your heart dropped to the floor. So, just when you thought you’d have  _ something _ to move onto — your hopes shattered.

“S’pose that I’m not looking for a relationship either,” you found yourself saying impulsively. 

“Per-fect,” Levi said slowly, furrowing his eyebrows confusedly. You groaned inwardly, frustrated at how your interactions with one of your musician idols was going. 

“Coke?" Hange asked, holding their can up. 

“Yes, please,” you said, dying to be preoccupied with some mundane action to involve yourself with instead of this. You followed Hange to get the soda. 

They opened the refrigerator, and pulled a can out of a cardboard box. 

“Sorry about Levi. He’s blunt all the time,” they said, looking at you gently.

You smiled back with equal energy, unsure how to feel. Your entire life was now just a series of conflicting emotions, a quiet sort of drama in which you were the only one stirring the pot. 

“It’s alright. I guess I’m not ready for a relationship, either,” you said, popping open the can and drinking deeply. The cold fizz burned in your throat in a different way than alcohol, definitely without the aftertaste of a bitter tang. 

“Do you like Coke?” Hange asked, clinking their bottle with yours when you stopped drinking.

You laughed, shaking your head confusedly. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“We’ve got a sponsorship for Coke coming up soon. Levi hates doing them, of course, but it’s good money and publicity,” they said, continuing to explain. 

“Are you going to film something for it?” you asked, curious about how sponsorships work.

“Yeah,” they said, nodding. “We’re going to the Maldives just after this.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Seriously? Wow. Eren and I — and the rest of our crew — are going there, too!”

Hange brightened. “Great! I never really get to make friends anymore, and I kind of miss that. So it’ll be great to see you.”

Your heart clenched. Maybe your relationship with Levi was sunk, but Hange was sweet and adorable. Your heart was warm.

“I’m glad, Hange. I’ve always looked up to you,” you gushed, inwardly squealing.

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart,” they said. “Wait. Why’re you and Eren going?”

You snorted dryly, eyes flitting over to Eren. He was … seemingly, arguing with Levi, face twisted into anger. You rolled your eyes at the scene.

“We’re honeymooning, you could say.”

“Huh?” Hange said. “I don’t think I’m connecting the right dots.” 

You brought yourself up to sit on the counter, the high rise of it allowing you to dangle your legs. The hem of your dress skimmed up to your upper thighs dangerously, but you didn’t care.

“We were both runaways from our weddings. Somehow found each other. Decided to spend our honeymoons together,” you explained, giving her the crash course.

“Ah. That makes sense, just because with the way Erwin’s been staring at you all night — and for that matter, Eren himself — that’s one confusing setup,” they said, pushing their glasses up on the bridge of their nose. 

You leaned your head on your shoulder.

“You’re seeing things, Hange. Eren only sees me as a friend, and Erwin might flirt unabashedly, but he hasn’t  _ done _ anything,” you said, complaining and releasing all your pent up thoughts at once.

“You might want to take that back,” Hange said, looking over your shoulder. “Erwin’s coming. I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

You blinked rapidly as they sped away, and the spot where they’d been standing was replaced by Erwin.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said, staring at you with those baby blue eyes of his. You felt your defenses melt away.

“Hi, handsome,” you said, echoing his compliment. “What brings you here?”

He stepped closer towards you, his fingers playing with the edge of your hem as he slotted himself between your legs. You leaned your head down closer to him instinctively. 

“I wanted to apologize on Levi’s behalf. He — was not behaving himself,” he said, pausing and then finally settling on a description.

“It’s fine, I guess. He only told me the truth,” you admitted. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? About the relationship thing?”

Erwin grimaced. “Didn’t want to scare you away. I like to take things slow. Well. Not all things.” His fingers skimmed over the tops of your thigh before sliding slowly up your inner thighs, swirling circles. You found yourself holding a breath in, exhaling when Erwin moved his fingers away, his fingers curving around your hips and thighs and holding you by there. 

“But for relationship statuses, yes. I like being confident about what I’m committing to. I’m sure you feel the same, with the whole Willy Tybur incident," Erwin said knowingly. By now, most people should know what had happened given Willy's high profile, and your reattachment to Eren, another high profile.

You laughed, and realized it was a genuine laugh, not a sad regretful one. Another leap of progress.

“Yeah. I do feel the same, thinking about it that way,” you said, reflecting. “Hear you’re going to the Maldives, too.”

“Oh? You’re going? I hope to see you there again,” Erwin said, smiling, squeezing your thigh.

“See her where?” asked Eren. You didn’t have to see him to know it was him talking angrily still, his voice deep and gruff.

“Eren. No Name and I are heading off to the Maldives for a sponsorship filming,” Erwin said, politely. 

“And why would you need to see her?” Eren asked, standing near you and Erwin, body ninety degrees to your sides.

“ _ I _ want to see him,” you said, frostily. “Got a problem with it? Surely my  _ friend _ would be supportive of my new relationship.” You didn’t turn your face to look at him, only spoke to a spot in the wall.

“Thought Erwin doesn’t do relationships.”

“Well—”

You interrupted Erwin. This was between you and Eren. “Exception for me, I guess. _Some_ people can do that.”

You slid down from the counter, body sliding against Erwin’s, who helped you down when he noticed your sudden action, and then finally faced Eren. 

“I’ll see you in the hotel suite later. I’ve got to talk to Erwin privately.” You grabbed Erwin’s hand, and left the lounge, pulling the blond with you. 

Really, you didn’t have to talk to Erwin. But you couldn’t stand Eren’s unnecessary possessiveness. Hopefully this was the taste of jealousy he needed to shake himself enough to either fully step away, or to pursue you, finally.

Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back with ch 6! sorry for the long wait: between real life, my struggles with figuring out in which direction to take this chapter, and other projects it's been some time! but this is hopefully long enough to hold you all over haha :)) our next destination is the maldives ... but what'll happen in between? ;) 
> 
> check out my other works and my tumblr (@jae-ren), and i am looking forward to your comments, they truly keep me going and writing! (btw on my tumblr, you can interact with me via my ask box anonymously, too! and ive begun posting tumblr unique content on there hehe jae-ren.tumblr.com is the link if you want to copy it in.)


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